


The Godfather

by leonpaladin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 16:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonpaladin/pseuds/leonpaladin
Summary: Liam shook his head, emptied his bottle, and leaned back on the chair. “I’m being serious, Niall. You’ve all taught me things—too much really. Seen and done things I wouldn’t have done in my life. You’ve all made me laugh and cry, broke my heart and mended it again. We had the worst fights five stupid teenagers could’ve got themselves into. It keeps me awake at night sometimes—all the things we said, things we never really meant but just did out of anger. I’ve grown and all the things I’ve learned I’m using to raise my kid…” Liam’s eyes began to well up with tears. “Ha, how about that? A kid… Jesus, I’m a dad now and that entire thing with you guys seems like another lifetime ago.”orAfter long months of touring for their solo careers, Niall decides to visit Liam. They end up fighting, remembering their past, and showing feelings they've kept to themselves for so long.





	The Godfather

It was hard to miss him. Even when he’s ditched his boy-next-door blonde hair and gone all brunette, there was a charm—-maybe because he’s Irish—-that made him stand out from the rest.

After months of planning, exhausting every avenue of promotion and touring for their solo albums and singles, the first of baby Bear Payne’s godfathers has arrived.

The plan was supposed to be Niall taking a cab to Liam and Cheryl’s place in L.A., having dinner with them before Cheryl would fly for New York for some reunion with friends, and then Niall would babysit while Liam worked at the studio. But as clever as they’ve always been, every goddamn paparazzi got wind of the situation.

So the plan had to change.

Liam had to drive to LAX to fetch Niall secretly; there was this whole thirty minutes of checking every now and then if someone had recognized either one of them before Niall could get into the car. When they arrived at Liam’s house, however, Cheryl had already left.

“Someone was taking photos…” Liam insisted on carrying Niall’s luggage. The Irish seemed distracted along the road, staring emptily on the horizon like it was some pretty painting. “ _Definitely_ taking photos.”

“Won’t matter anymore, mate.” Niall had stopped protesting and was forced to walk the front porch empty-handed, eyes darting on every corner of the house’s facade. “At least we didn’t get mobbed though.”

Niall first glanced at the square leather couches when he entered the living room. “Shame I didn’t get to taste Cheryl’s cookin’—-was looking forward for that.”

 Liam turned on the lights in the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a large pan covered in foil. “Still have some leftovers, if you want.” Tossing it into the microwave, he turned toward Niall who was busy admiring every inch of the house.

“And it’s _my_ cooking,” Liam said rather proudly in his strange American accent. “I can cook now, you know.”

“I’m sure you can…” Niall answered absent-mindedly. “Where’s my little godson?”

Liam eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not going anywhere near him until you’ve snapped out of that trance of yours.”

“What trance?”

“That _trance_!” Liam’s voice rose. “Ever since I picked you up at the airport, you’ve been staring out the window.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” defended Niall.

The microwaved beeped; Liam pulled out oven mittens from the drawer and fished out the pan, laying it on the countertop. “If you weren’t in a trance, then you would’ve known that Bear isn’t here.”

“Wait, _what_?”

“See!” Liam was getting frustrated. “I told you in the car—-Cheryl flew to New York. Seeing as we weren’t sure you could come right away, she brought Bear with her.”

“You told me that in the car?”

Liam threw the oven mitt at Niall. “Stop _fucking_ around!”

Niall looked at him, horrified and confused. Liam rubbed his temple; he opened the fridge again and grabbed a water bottle. They were both quiet while Liam chugged the water down. He threw it into the trash and sighed.

“Two minutes in and we’re already fighting…” Liam closed his eyes. “Niall, I promise I won’t snap like that again, just tell me what’s going on.”

Niall bit his lower lip.

“C’mon, mate… You can trust me.”

Niall’s ears perked up. It’s true, he trusted Liam more than most people. Even if Liam had changed, he could still feel the genuineness of his words. But Niall felt like secrets like the one he’s keeping at the moment is something even Liam wouldn’t understand…

“I fucked it up, Li,” croaked Niall.

Liam’s brows furrowed. “Fucked what up?”

Niall didn’t answer.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Liam couldn’t shake the feeling. This was shy Niall, scared little Niall—too soft, too fragile. This was the Niall that got a panic attack after getting mobbed in London when they stupidly thought they could go grab a pint without getting noticed. “You didn’t get some girl knocked up, did you?”

Niall’s eyes widened. “What—-no! Liam, you know I don’t do that fan thing anymore!”

“Then what is it!” The anxiety was getting to him as well. Niall’s a ball of sunshine. Anything that turns him into something else was easily a cause for alarm. “Ni, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“Liam…”

“Tell me.”

“Li, don’t—-don’t make me… You’ll just get angry-—”

“Tell me, _now_.”

“I…I slept with Zayn.”

“You—-” Liam felt something caught up in his throat. “ _WHAT?!_ ”

Tears were pricking Niall’s eyes. “You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

Liam carded his fingers through his hair. “ _Fuck,_ Niall…”

“You _fucking_ promised, Li!”

Holding up his hand, Liam tried to calm himself down. “Alright, alright…It’s just that—- _god_ —-why-—how did—-” Liam stared at Niall who was red all over. “Was it when you shook hands with him?”

Niall slowly nodded.

“How did _that_ happen?”

“It was after I performed _This Town_ ,” explained Niall, wiping the drying tears from his cheeks. “I was backstage, packing my things when he suddenly pulled me into one of the dressing rooms. Locked it up and…then he started kissing me…”

Liam swallowed thickly.

“I pushed him away—-I was mad. He leaves us and then wants to have his way with me…says he’s sobered up about the whole breaking away from the band thing and just wanted _something_ to remind him of before.” Niall closed his eyes. “You know how much I love you all, even Zayn, but even though I wanted him back in the band—-he’s a prick.”

“But you _helped_ him leave the band.”

Niall’s ears twitched. “I didn’t—-”

“-—that whole drug thing, that was you,” insisted Liam. He was closing in on Niall while the other backed away, the blonde—-now brunette—-finding himself between Liam and the cabinet. “The final straw so he could get what he wanted. We’ve always known Zayn wasn’t happy with what he was doing. The _fucking_ band made him rich but he still wanted to get away—-and you helped him. We let him off his contract because you convinced us that he’d only get worse if we don’t give him what he wants, and that it was for the best.”

Niall looked scandalized. “Why are you pinning this on me all of the sudden?”

“Admit it,” spat Liam.

“Admit what?”

“That you fell in love with him—-that’s why you helped him! You aren’t mad at him, you don’t think he’s a prick. You just _want_ him.”

“You’re fucking crazy, mate!”

“In fact, maybe you even wanted him to fuck you after that awards show,” Liam’s tone was rising, along with his anger. “You missed his cock, Ni? Did you miss his big, fat, _fucking_ cock inside your ass?!”

“ _Shut up_! Just shut up!” Niall pushed him away. “You’re just _jealous_!”

Liam’s eyes widened.

“You’re jealous that after everything, Zayn came to me and not you!” screamed Niall. “What do you care, Li? You and Zayn were over before he left! Didn’t work out, did it? You’re too jealous, he’s too moody. It wouldn’t—-”

“And the two of you would?!” growled Liam. “First Harry, then Zayn, and then me-—”

“What do you mean, _you_?”

“That blowjob in Sweden—-and when we fucked in Hong Kong before we flew to Manila—-”

“You said you wanted to _forget_!” spat Niall. “We were all pretend crying on stage and then after we got to the hotel, you dragged me into your room because you wanted to get over Zayn breaking up with you and leaving the band, remember that?!”

“But you _did_ fall for him?”

“What’s it to you?!”

“Because—-because!”

“Because, _what_ , Liam? Why can’t you just—-”

“-—because I’m in love with you!”

Their faces were inches apart. Liam was blotchy red all over, veins popping on his forehead; Niall was staring at him with shock, rosy stains creeping on his pale, stubbled chin and cheeks. They were both out of breath from all the anger, from all the frustrations, from _everything_ that had been balled up inside their chests. Ever since the band broke up, they’ve rarely talked; separate lives have taken over.

Now, the revelation had been thrown out into the open. Niall didn’t know what to do with what Liam just said. It was disarming: he always knew they had this sweet relationship but he never imagined Liam would honest-to-goodness be _in love_ with him. Their times fooling around were just for laughs and Niall didn’t realize it was turning into something else for Liam.

Niall opened his mouth to speak but Liam pulled him closer and locked their lips. It’s been a while since Niall tasted those lips—-chapped and unforgettable, reminding him of their first kiss back on the _Take Me Home_ tour when they bought those pineapples in Australia.

Back then it was just curiosity and a sense of fondness for each other; now it was desperation and release. They weren’t those boys anymore. They’ve grown out of those shoes, out of each other’s lives. Somehow, those years together never felt like anything more than just a dream.

Liam was no longer the thoughtful, sensible guy who cuddled him up whenever he felt insecure. He, on the other hand, was no more that soft, soft baby that felt safe inside his band mates’ arms. No longer with the braces, no longer the underdog, no longer that sweet boy with crooked teeth who didn’t belong in a group of handsome bachelors.

They’ve all settled down—-had their own families and solo careers—-and now it’s his turn for girls and guys popping out of his hotel room every now and then. He’s forgotten their names, just memories of late night orgasms of creaking beds, fucks on tables, up and against walls and windows, and under steamy showers that were over before he knew it.

The morning after he’s still the bachelor with no commitments: just a man with adventurous one night stands and short-lived dates.

Yet as Liam took him—-and he’d let him—-Niall felt like that sweet boy again; in the arms of someone he’d known for a long time but now he wasn’t soft anymore—-they were both hard and rough. He never knew what he felt for Liam. It was just _there_ and it had no label—-he didn’t want to name it as anything but theirs and theirs alone.

“I…I love you, Niall…” Liam sobbed as their lips broke away. “I don’t know why but you’ve always been someone special to me. I-I get mad at the thought you had someone…I should let you be…but I…I don’t—-”

Niall kissed him again, hands settling on Liam’s arms.

“Then take me,” whispered Niall, their noses brushing. “Right here, right now. Make me remember how it feels like, Li—-because I tried to find it with so many but I couldn’t… I just _couldn’t_ , Li…”

“I loved it when you called me that…” Liam nipped at his ear, giggling softly like he was nineteen again. “It’s so cute, Ni-Ni…”

Niall skin flushed deep pink, felt it was too long since he last heard it. Liam had become tattoos, cigarettes, and hip hop. He’s changed so much that it was almost a different person. But the way his voice sounds-—those deep rumbles and slurs that even his American accent couldn’t hide—-is the past that lives on.

“ _Liam_ ,” Niall sounded impatient.

“How about a shower, yeah?” Liam had excitement laced around his sultry words. Grabbing Niall’s waist, Liam squeezed him forward, rubbing their crotches together. “Done that before, haven’t we, Ni? Remember that time when Harry had to pee and I was still inside you?”

“ _Li_ …” Niall bit down his moan, trying to not completely lose it and rut himself onto Liam. “C’mon…”

Then Liam had a laugh and kissed Niall on the tip of his nose. “Maybe we’ll do that later. But for now, you’ve gotta eat.”

“ _Liam_!” Niall’s ears turned red, the thrill in his veins abruptly stopped. He threw a frustrated glare at Liam. “You’re a _fucking_ asshole!”

“Aww, babe…” Liam grabbed Niall’s arm and kissed his cheek, a growl rumbling in his throat as he continued, “You won’t have time to eat when I start _fucking_ you raw…and we’ve got _lots_ of time in our hands. Image all the _things_ I could do to you—-maybe you could even fuck _me_. I bet you’d want that, huh, Ni? Me on all fours and you cumming inside me?”

Niall could feel his dick get hard at the thought of being inside Liam, pounding him deep and making him scream—-

“Liam! Not helping!”

 ***

All throughout the time Liam was busy in the kitchen cooking, Niall had to hold back any type of thought that made him chew on his lips. He kept on checking his phone, playing a game he downloaded but never played, just to keep his eyes distracted from the back muscles underneath Liam’s shirt.

Liam kept the conversation alive by talking about making music alone…something about him getting into _Harry Potter_ because of Bear…and something else that Niall wasn’t sure of because he kept thinking of other things—-like how Liam’s voice was turning him on.

“So…Harry’s going on tour…” said Liam, making his way around the kitchen, chopping up some chives, scooping it up, and throwing it into the pan that was sizzling over the stove. “Have _you_ thought on going on tour?”

Niall shrugged. “Depends. The studio would want me to, of course. I haven’t even released the album yet—-and it’s already June.”

Their short conversations changed every minute or so and Niall was getting impatient with Liam. He _knows_ Liam was doing it on purpose-—to rile him up. But he kept at it, tried to look as plain and calm as possible.

They finally ate—-lunch, _second_ lunch, or whatever you wanted to call it because it was already two in the afternoon—-and Niall was feeling giddy. Liam, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine, chewing away like a fucking aristocrat.

Niall couldn’t deny that Liam had become a good cook. Back when they were in the band, it was either him or Harry that cooked. He’s always been a fancy gourmet fan and Harry’s all about hearty, good food. Niall remembered with fondness how Louis would overreact and dramatize how they would starve without the two of them.

“Well, you could always get chicken nuggets from McDonald’s,” he would say and Louis would’ve gave him a sour look like he said something racially inappropriate.

“Those things are garbage compared to _this_!” Louis would hold up the plate, imitating the opening scene from _The Lion King_. “This is fucking gold, this is. Niall, send my love to Jamie Oliver for teaching you how to cook.”

“What about _my_ cooking?” Harry would pout.

“Yours is that warm feeling of home, love,” Louis would reply, kissing Harry on the cheek. “Hearty and just delicious.”

Then they would make cute noises and Niall would eat somewhere else or else he’d get tooth decay from all the sweetness he’d be exposed to if he stayed at the table with Louis and Harry. He would join Liam, who was always eating away silently while on his phone, watching another episode of one of those goddamn TV shows Niall couldn’t even finish watching.

“…and then Henry said something about fish hooks and everybody started laughing and—- _hey_!”

Niall found Liam staring at him.

“What?”

“I was telling you something…”

“Oh, sorry… I dozed away…”

“What about?”

“Old times,” said Niall, smiling a bit. “Harry and I cooking.”

Liam smiled as well. “Yeah, I missed those times. Back then, I never really did have the nerve to cook anything. Now, here we are…”

“Yeah…”

Niall tried to say something but he stared at the beer bottle in his hand. Liam noticed him in his deep thought.

“Do you want us to come back?”

“Come back?”

“Yes, come back—-me, Louis, Harry…and even Zayn.”

“Like a reunion?”

“No,” Liam shook his head. “Like a legit band again. Tours, albums, sleepless nights—-the whole good shit.”

Niall chuckled though his eyes twinkled.

“ _Good_ shit?”

Liam shrugged.

“I’m being reasonable and grateful. Made me rich, made me famous-—I’d be at the factory with my dad if all of _that_ didn’t happen.”

Niall took a swig of the beer beside his plate. “I’d probably be basking on the street and serving tables in Mullingar just to get through maybe college. Doubt that I would get through though.”

“And there’s also other things…”

“What other things?”

“I wouldn’t have met you four.”

“Getting sappy now, are we?”

Liam shook his head, emptied his bottle, and leaned back on the chair. “I’m being serious, Niall. You’ve all taught me things—-too much really. Seen and done things I wouldn’t have done in my life. You’ve all made me laugh and cry, broke my heart and mended it again. We had the worst fights five stupid teenagers could’ve got themselves into. It keeps me awake at night sometimes—-all the things we said, things we never really meant but just did out of anger. I’ve grown and all the things I’ve learned I’m using to raise my kid…” Liam’s eyes began to well up with tears. “Ha, how about that? A kid… _Jesus_ , I’m a dad now and that entire thing with you guys seems like another lifetime ago.”

Niall frowned. “Liam…”

The tattooed man from Wolverhampton, eyes brown and warm as chocolate, stood up and walked towards Niall. Liam pulled Niall up and locked their lips together.

“Liam, what are you—-”

“Please don’t leave,” Liam whispered, voice broken. “You’re my last piece of that life. Stay with me…please…”

“Alright, hey, it’s alright,” Niall consoled him. “I’m not leaving, Liam—-none of us are.”

 ***

There had always been a debate, a question during interviews or even with just the five of them, on who will miss being in the band the most. Niall would always say it was him. He was the proper show-off even when he was still auditioning, and being in a boy band was one of the highlights of his career that was there to endure.

But as he stood there under the drizzling water of the shower, naked and wondering what brought up Liam’s very emotional version of a mid-life crisis at twenty-four, he remembered all the questions they’ve asked themselves during late nights: The first one to compromise, the first one to drive himself away, the one who’ll set it all on fire, the person who would forget every single promise. They’ve managed to even turn it into a song because at that time, they could feel it-—the impending dark cloud was on the horizon and each one of them, though not talking about it out loud, knew something was going happen.

And then it did.

Just after arriving in Manila, the camera flashes and Filipino girls (their boyfriends, and probably some gay friends as well) were screaming their names but they weren’t five but just four. A few hours later, the local news were swarming with rumors from the international press about Zayn’s decision on leaving the band. They tried to keep it together, like they’ve always had. A mask for the limelight that wasn’t forgiving for the weak and vulnerable. They had a fight backstage during their second night in Manila, something Louis said and Liam biting back. Harry was still recovering from his slip on the rain-drenched stage the previous night and wasn’t so keen on being his proper showman self. The talks on Zayn’s departure settled down for a while but was on proper rampage when they came back to London.

“…I broke it up with Perrie,” said Zayn.

“The engagement—-”

“I called everything off, Niall. _Everything_.”

“You called her?”

“I texted her.”

“ _God_ …”

“I was high.”

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

“I’ve always been a fucking asshole, Ni. A pretty-faced motherfucking asshole piece of shit.”

“And you called me just to tell me that?”

“I messed up, Niall…”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Niall was lost in thought, the cold water drowning out the world outside his mind, and he didn’t notice the door of the shower opening and a shadow lurking behind him. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist and Niall jumped in surprise.

“Calm down, it’s me,” Liam whispered into his ear.

A shiver ran down Niall’s spine as Liam spun him around. Inches from each other, Niall’s heart started pounding like crazy. He’s done this plenty of times but never was he nervous like this. And he shouldn’t be, he thought, because this was Liam—Liam of all people. Liam wouldn’t do anything on purpose to hurt him.

“What’s wrong?” Liam frowned at him. “Niall, are you alright?”

Niall looked down. “I feel…like…I don’t know…”

“Hey,” Liam pulled his chin up. “This won’t be like Hong Kong, I promise.”

“Hong Kong was alright, Liam…”

“But I hurt you.”

“You were just angry. I don’t blame you.”

Liam shook his head.

“No, I didn’t even know how _you_ felt.”

There was silence. It was strange how most of their conversations nowadays ended up in silence. They stared at each other—Niall a blushing mess and Liam bearing a guilty expression on his face—as the water trickled down their skin, washing away the memories of the past that they wanted to forget. Liam grabbed the soap from behind Niall and started lathering themselves, a huge tension rising as Liam’s fingers moved sensually across Niall’s naked skin.

It was a quick, decisive moment when they both chose to let everything go; their lips met and Niall flung his arms around Liam’s neck. He felt Liam’s hands trace the water trickling down his spine. Niall gasped, feeling Liam’s soapy finger teasing his entrance. It prodded slowly until it slipped inside. Niall let out a soft noise and bit down on Liam’s shoulder.

“You alright, Ni?” Liam asked, not minding a sharp, tingling sensation on where Niall bit on his skin.

Niall nodded, his voice a little shaky. “Just been a while, is all… _God_ , Liam—another…fuck…”

When Liam added another finger, Niall couldn’t hold himself from moaning out loud. He’d been too used to being the one doing the work—too long since he was the one taking it and he felt embarrassed that Liam had to see his struggle. His hands were holding tightly onto Liam’s arms, nails digging down as he tried to catch his breath.

“We could stop if you’re not—”

“It’s okay— _ngh_ —a-another…”

Niall felt something tingling in his stomach as Liam placed a third finger inside him; his member was twitching between their stomachs, hard and rigid and wanting to be touched. The warm feeling in Niall’s guts coiled up and it was too late before he realized what was happening—

“Wait, s-stop—”

White spurts splattered onto Liam’s stomach; Niall was flushed deep red upon realizing what he just did. He muttered something under his breath exasperatedly and utterly embarrassed, and Liam chuckled with an amused smile.

“It’s okay, Niall.”

“No, it’s not!” Niall’s voice was squeaky, like a little boy who just wet himself in his sleep. “Goddamnit—like a _fucking_ hormonal teenager!”

“So you came on my fingers,” Liam shrugged. “No biggie. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Ni.”

The shower water had rendered Niall’s hair limp and he grumpily brushed it back and away from his eyes. The two of them didn’t talk for a minute or so, Liam continued lathering Niall up and hoping it would soothe his nerves. Grey water was rushing from their feet and down the drain; it was, aside from the shower, the only noise inside the bathroom. Liam cleared his throat as he scrubbed some shampoo on Niall’s hair.

“I wanna go to sleep,” said Niall.

Liam said nothing and rinsed both of them up.

After they had dried themselves, Niall changed into some pyjamas while Liam was out by the window, staring out at the city lights in the distance with only a pair of white boxers on. Niall cuddled up in the guest bedroom while Liam stayed put, probably waiting for Niall to sleep. While Liam was off gazing at the lights, Niall couldn’t help but watch him: the muscles on his back, the tufts of his messy brown hair that fluttered in the short gusts, and the tattoos on his hands and arms. He wanted to see Liam’s eyes but at the same time scared that he might see disappointment in them.

They didn’t speak for the remainder of the moments before Niall’s eyes were started to droop; the last thing he heard was Liam singing something he couldn’t recognize—a dark, slow, and a bit bitter ballad that made his hairs prick up. There were short pauses between verses and the chorus, and Niall wondered if Liam was composing it impromptu in his head. As his eyes closed, Liam sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, still singing that same calm, heart-wrenching song. Liam leaned down and Niall felt something warm pressed on his forehead before darkness and sleep took him.

***

Niall woke up to a dark room. The door was ajar and a sliver of light slipped through it—so did the music from the piano and Liam’s singing voice. Niall groggily got out of bed and followed the music outside the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, almost slipping from the small staircase. After a while he found where the music was coming from: Liam was sitting on the piano, lost in the song that he sang before Niall fell asleep. He was finally wearing a navy blue shirt and a pair of sweat shorts. Liam continued playing while Niall watched from a distance, not wanting to distract him from what he was doing. The music felt melancholic, and even if the words escape Niall’s understanding because he was still sleepy, there was pain and regret laced through them; an insurmountable amount of emotion was rushing through every note and every lyric.

As the song mellowed down from a crescendo, Niall quietly walked towards Liam who still seemed lost in the song. When it finished, Liam turned around and looked surprised to find Niall behind him, smiling.

Liam took Niall’s hand and kissed it. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Niall shook his head. “That was beautiful.”

Liam smiled. “Yeah, it’s…something…”

“Is that in your album?”

“Cut it off. Something like that doesn’t match up with hip-hop.” Liam closed the piano and held Niall’s hand. “I like to keep it for myself.”

It was silent again—Niall hated it. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Liam, burying his face on his chest. “I’m sorry,” his muffled voice said. “I was scared.”

“What would you be scared about? I’m not gonna hurt you, Ni.”

“‘M scared I’d disappoint you.”

“I wasn’t asking you to please me, Niall,” said Liam. He pulled away from their embrace and cupped Niall’s face with his hands. “Listen to me, Niall, there’s no need to go back to your old self. You’re past that, yeah? You’re touring the world on your own and _we_ love you for it and so much more. Don’t think you’re disappointing anyone because you’re not. We don’t deserve you, love— _I_ don’t deserve you.”

They each had a cup of coffee in the kitchen; the refrigerator door was left open, yellowish light flooding in a beam-like fashion across the countertop and onto the walls. In the shadows, the murmurs of Niall and Liam’s conversations echoed. Warm mugs in hand, Liam led Niall up a small spiral staircase and up the tiny rooftop deck that had a potted plant in the corner and two old couches facing the street below. They kept talking on and on under the moonless sky; it’s been a long time since they had a conversation like that. Before long, an exchange of sentences that meant more than they seem later, Niall had shucked away his pyjamas and Liam’s clothes were lying on the bedroom floor.

Moments later, loud moans broke the silent night air. In the shadows of the room, two bodies rocked back and forth against the mattress. Sweaty, sticky skins rubbed against each other in moments of pure ecstasy; pale fingers tried to grab hold and tugged wildly on wispy brown locks; a grunt followed, tattooed arms pulling up a blushing figure against his own and pounding like crazy; and in the frenzy of the moment, a scream cut through and white coated their skins but the tattooed arms held on, still catching his high.

“Oh god…” Niall moaned, his member rubbed raw between their stomachs. Liam was still pounding into him, eyes wild and dark. “Liam— _fuck_ —oh my god, Liam— _faster_!”

They continued on, words rambled like inane babbles as Liam continued to rut inside Niall. His fingers traced down Niall’s spine and to where he ended and Niall began, endlessly trying to form them into one being. Niall’s fingers dug onto his back and Liam felt his muscles tense, a coiling pressure forming inside him. He wasn’t going to last long. When Niall came again, Liam groaned loudly and emptied himself inside his pale lover. They fell down onto the bed, panting like there was a loss of air. Liam slowly pulled out of Niall, curling up beside him. Both of them feeling like a mess, Niall rested his head on Liam’s chest and fell asleep quicker than he had in years.

The sky was painted pink as it slowly basked the nearing rising sun. A dog barked in the distance, the neighbourhood still sound asleep right before the break of dawn. The room was still dark when Niall woke up with no one beside him, no body aside from his own underneath the sheets. His heart began to sink—but then he began noticing the naked figure by the window. Liam seemed to have taken the liking of staring out the small terrace, the morning air was playing with his bedhead, wispy hair.

“Hey,” Niall’s voice came out raspy but Liam turned around and smiled, the faint light showing the reddish claw marks on his shoulders.

“Morning, snowflake,” said Liam.

Niall climbed out of bed, covering himself with the comforter, and dragging it down to the window beside Liam. For once, Niall enjoyed the silence because it meant everything was okay—no one regretted anything that they’ve done last night. His morning wood jerked up at the thought of Liam inside him.

Niall felt a tingle when Liam started kissing his neck, hands pulling off the comforter and exposing his skin to the cold morning air. Liam jerked him lazily and Niall felt something hard against his butt.

“I wanna be inside you again…” Liam whispered.

With his skin deep pink like the morning sky, Niall reached back and started stroking Liam’s hard shaft, earning a groan. Niall smirked and pumped faster.

“No one’s stopping you, Li.”

With one hand, Liam placed Niall’s hands in front of them and onto the railings. Liam bent Niall over, his ass perking up to view. He hovered over Niall and with his other hand, guided himself slowly into him. Liam inched in and out of Niall steadily, peppering Niall’s back with light kisses. It was a lazy morning fuck that the both of them seemed to like. A car zoomed away nearby and Niall panicked that someone might see two guys pounding it out on the second floor terrace. Liam just chuckled then grunted as he neared his release. Niall was the first to come undone from their slow love making and before long, Liam followed, breathing heavily on Niall’s neck as he emptied himself inside him.

An hour more of cuddling in bed and they found themselves sharing a shower; it was a quick one with their intimacy bordering on a stolen kiss that stemmed from Niall hearing Liam say something that sounded like the word “beautiful”.

It was during breakfast that Liam broke the small exchange of giggles that they had. Grabbing his cup of tea, he glanced at Niall who was across the table, pillaging every ounce of breakfast from his plate. Liam took a sip and then reluctantly drinking it again before settling it down beside his plate.

“I never apologized for blaming you yesterday about Zayn leaving,” said Liam.

He thought Niall didn’t hear; he had begun to repeat himself when Niall placed down his silver and looked dreadfully at Liam. “After all the things we did, you’re still thinking about that dumb thing you said?”

“Just like old times, right?” Liam sounded like he was ridiculing himself. “Things we never meant—things we just said out of anger. We were a bickering lot, weren’t we?”

“Liam…”

“Maybe that’s why we all wanted to go solo…”

“Where’s all of this coming from?”

Liam looked at Niall and they both understood; they turned their sights from each other. This was supposed to be just a visit from an old friend but it had escalated quickly just like that—like fire with gasoline, like those rowdy teenagers eating pineapples in a tour bus and kissing each other because they were curious.

“I pushed too far, didn’t I?” asked Liam.

Niall bit his lip. “We’re still friends, Li.”

“ _Friends_.” Liam spat bitterly. “What kind of friend accuses someone they love just because they couldn’t control their frustrated teenage angst? I pushed too hard and even so, you were willing to go with it. I just fucked you on that balcony a few hours ago, not thinking if anyone might see us—I did that because we were _friends_.”

Niall forcefully stood from his chair. “Stop it! Just stop it, Liam Payne! We did what we did and that’s that! Stop blaming yourself for everything! You can’t fix it—no matter how much you think you’re strong enough to make things better, you can’t always do it!”

“Niall—”

“Things have happened to us, Liam.” Niall started crying. “God knows _we’re_ just running around in circles. We’ve never really seen the end of what we have. Heck, I don’t know if we really _had_ anything to begin with—”

“Niall, I’m sorry—”

“Stop saying sorry, you asshole!” shouted Niall. He pounced at Liam but the tattooed man just stood there, taking in every hammering fist Niall banged on his chest. “I-It nev—never really fixes anything. It didn’t fix the band, it didn’t fix my-my family, it didn’t fix m-me…it won’t fix us!”

Niall messily wiped away the tears on his cheeks. “Last night, I finally gave you my heart, Liam Payne. I knew it was wrong—fucking hell, I’m your son’s _godfather_!”

Liam’s voice trembled. “What should’ve I done?”

“You should’ve left it to crumble, Liam,” said Niall. “It was going to end anyway but you chose to wreck it all down with your sledgehammer. Then I would’ve forgiven you for it—even without your sorry I would’ve forgiven you all the same.”

The rest of the day couldn’t have breezed through even faster. Liam disappeared off to the studio after breakfast but came back an hour later and shut himself up in his bedroom. Niall spent the day in bed, not realizing he had fallen asleep midday until there was a knock on the door.

It was night again; and Liam was standing by the door, both hands holding mugs that distinctively smelled like hot cocoa. Niall chose to drink his in bed while Liam hauled the armchair in the corner of the room and positioned it by the foot of the bed. They both drank in silence until Niall’s stomach growled loud enough.

“Wanna eat dinner?” asked Liam.

“I’m not—”

“You haven’t eaten anything all day.” Liam frowned. “Can we talk?”

Niall shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “That’s depends.”

Liam placed his empty mug on the floor and walked towards the bed. He climbed up, watching as Niall visibly tense. Grabbing the sheets, Liam pulled himself under and sat beside Niall. They both stared at the empty wall in front of them, not bothering to look at each other and scared something wrong might happen if they did.

“The song was about you,” said Liam.

Niall looked surprised—flattered even.

“M-Me?”

“Yes, _you_. I wrote it four years ago.”

“And I only heard it last night because?”

“I told you, I like to keep it for myself.”

It was around Christmas time four years ago when Liam started acting strange around Niall. Every time Niall was around him, Liam didn’t look pleased. They were playing FIFA at Harry’s hotel room—Niall versus Louis. Harry was on the bed, watching them play while he ate some chips; Zayn was by the window, smoking; and Liam was in the corner, looking like he was sulking. As they ended the match, Louis head-locked Niall, they were both laughing it out and got a bit handsy. Out of nowhere, Liam stormed out of the room in rage.

Harry started to get up but Louis said he’ll be the one to talk to Liam. Zayn went back to smoking and staring down the sidewalk where a dozen girls were screaming their lungs out. Niall climbed onto the bed with Harry, both of them trying to figure out Liam’s sudden outburst. Half an hour later, Louis came back, grabbed his jacket and said they were going were going out for a walk.

“You and Liam?” asked Harry.

“Yeah,” replied Louis, chucking his phone down his pocket. He rummaged the bag of chips for some leftovers. “The lad’s got a _lot_ on his mind right now.”

“We’re all supposed to have dinner together,” Zayn pointed out, flicking his spent cigarette off his fingers and sending it plummeting down to the street below. “Meeting and all that shit.”

Louis gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek, ruffled Niall’s hair, and then gave Zayn an eskimo kiss. “We’ll be back within the hour, don’t worry.”

Closing the door behind him, Louis disappeared out of sight and Zayn kept going on about his concern of Louis and Liam loosing track of time. But, thankfully, fifty minutes later, the two returned without any word of what they talked about.

After dinner and the meeting, Niall walked down the empty hallway. As he passed by Liam’s room, he hesitated to open the door—especially when he heard Louis and Liam’s muffled voices inside. Louis sounded irritated and Liam sounded desperate. He fell asleep that night with a dream: Louis and Liam were both naked and making out at the the foot of his bed while camera flashes filled the claustrophobic room; Zayn was smoking weed on an armchair while Harry sucked him off. Niall woke up in the middle of the night and jerked off until he came and fell asleep again.

Niall didn’t even notice that Liam had brought them up the small roof deck again. He’s been entranced by his memories that he couldn’t remember how Liam convinced him to get out of bed. Liam had placed a small table against the wall beside the potted plant, a pile of sandwiches was on top of it. The moon was full that night amidst the faded stars of the city; a cold wind blew even though it was summer. There was a party going on in a villa in the distance and down below on the street, a car passed by the house; the neighbours’ dog barked at something that was pillaging the trash.

Liam had already sat down on one of the old couches and Niall opted to do the same. They ate the sandwiches in silence, Niall’s mind rambling on with thoughts of the past. As the city lights twinkled, much of the memories of the five of them camping out in Harry’s backyard played on. Burning embers and tongues of flame danced in the wide fire pit where they were cooking marshmallows and the five of them encircled it while they each did their part in singing while Niall played the guitar.

“You’re zoning out again.”

Liam was staring at him, half-eaten sandwich in hand. Niall’s skin turned pink and he wondered if he missed Liam telling him something while he was entranced.

“Lot on my mind, actually,” said Niall.

“Which memory is it this time?”

“Campfires at Harry’s.”

“Ah, yes,” Liam smiled fondly as he gazed out to the distance. “Back in those days, we were all just excited on being famous and performing on stage. Nothing about heartbreak, difficult choices, or getting tired of everything.”

“I keep thinking whether or not something went wrong along the way.”

“Nothing went wrong. We just…grew up. Grew out of it, in fact.”

Niall bit his lip. He wanted to loose his appetite and have an excuse for going back to sleep but there was a force that was pulling him into the moment—like he was supposed to say something to make things alright again. He stared at the sandwich he was holding and, miraculously, something came up.

“I guess we have to grow out of what we have too, Li.” Niall felt a rush inside his body. “You’ve got a girl and a kid going on. I don’t want to mess that up because of what we feel for each other.”

“Is that why you freaked out this morning?”

“Well, would you have blamed me?” Niall finally got to laugh at himself. “I finally got somewhere with you and then I realized it wasn’t meant to be. I had to let go even if I just barely made it. That scared me.”

“Who said anything about letting go?”

“I do, Liam. I can’t go around sneaking kisses while you have your family going on. I don’t want to hurt Cheryl like that.”

“Cheryl knows about you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I told her about what I felt for you. She seemed cool with it. Cheryl even went on about noticing something between us when we were still on the show. She said it was adorable.”

“ _Adorable_?” Niall looked bewildered, his mouth hung agape. “You got yourself a weird lady, Liam. Honestly, she’s been taking care of us since were contestants but there’s some serious shit going on if she thinks our thing is _adorable_.”

Liam chuckled. “Can’t doubt her on what she says, mate. If that’s the way she feels about it, I’m at least happy about it.”

They talked on about things they’ve never asked each other about. In the last six years of being together, they were both surprised that they still kept secrets that they’ve only started to know about. The minutes passed by slowly through the night as both Niall and Liam laughed and reminisced about things that felt like eons ago. It’s odd that they didn’t run out of things to say; they looked at each other under the moonlight as if they were that sensible boy and that soft, soft lad from years ago again.

“Hey, Liam…”

“Yeah, Ni?”

“I can take Bear out golfing when he grows up, right?”

“No! No golfing, Niall!”

A half-eaten sandwich laid on the plate; Niall and Liam seemed to have forgotten the time because it was already midnight. But just like way before, they were laughing as if there were three more people in that roof deck. For once, the memories of five teenage souls sleeping underneath the starry skies lived on through the night. All the fear and doubt had disappeared—even if it was just for a while.

Niall fell asleep on Liam’s chest. He buried himself in those strong arms again like before, basking in the warmth he remembered so fondly. Liam placed a kiss on Niall’s head, and the wind didn’t feel cold anymore.

 


End file.
